


Worst Case Scenario - Ganda

by starrynightwrt



Series: Arja Hamdan-Zulham [3]
Category: Bumilangit Cinematic Universe, Gundala (2019)
Genre: M/M, a 'what if' kinda scenario, im so so so sorry for this, still in the aftermath of Darah Daging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21717199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynightwrt/pseuds/starrynightwrt
Summary: Life doesn’t always go as planned, it doesn’t matter how meticulously you calculate every detail to fit your preferred frame of reference, sometimes, some variables just went out of their way to derail your plansGanda Hamdan knew that he needed to prepare for this. So that if the worst case scenario ever happened, he at least got one less thing to worry about. He prepared a detailed step by step instructions for Ghani to do if the day ever come.
Relationships: Ghani Zulham (Ghazul)/Ganda Hamdan, Ghazul/Ganda
Series: Arja Hamdan-Zulham [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561873
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	Worst Case Scenario - Ganda

**_I’m sorry I had to put you through this, darling._ **

Ghazul turns the ignition off of his car, his hands involuntarily drop from the steering wheel, limp on top of his thighs, sort of amazed he didn’t crash his car on the way here. The slight crack on his windows doesn’t provide enough air inside, for he was suffocating. It feels like his ribs are scaling down, crushing his lungs in a slow and painful motion. Ghazul draws in a shaky breath for four seconds, holding it in, before releasing it slowly, trying to trick his mind as if he isn’t in any state of panic. He has lost all feelings of existing, no, it isn’t the adrenaline, his body doesn’t exactly go numb — it’s more like he feels he has discorporated, and his astral form can now see his lifeless carcass staring into the deep end, hurting, but lifeless.

**_I know this is hard, but I need you to keep your composure. She needs you to._ **

Ghazul takes a look of himself on the rear view mirror. He runs his hand through his hair, taming the messy curls on top of his head. He pulls out a blood stained handkerchief from his breast pocket, using it to pat the wet area underneath his eyes, stealing a sniff of Ganda’s cologne that lingers on the fabric before tucking it back into his pocket. His hand reaches out for the door handle, still trembling.

**_Pick her up from school, Ghani, make sure you’re there on time, smile._ **

The air is hot, with the sun shining brightly scorching the sidewalks, and midsummer air blowing through lines of maple trees on the school yard. It is a beautiful day, much to his dismay, contrasting Ghazul’s state of mind. He tries sporting a forced smile along the seam of his lips, again, tricking himself into thinking that he isn’t under any sort of distress.

The school bell rings, followed with the sudden succession of little footsteps heading towards the door. 

“Ayah!”

It takes him everything to not fall to his knees at the sound of her cheerful greets. Arja runs into his father's arm, Ghazul picked her up so effortlessly, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Arja kangen Ayah!” Arja drops his head on Ghazul’s shoulder, “kata Nanny, Ayah sama _Papa_ baru pulang besok.”

Ghazul bits his lips, trying to loosen the knot on his gut; he can’t.

“Ayah juga kangen Arja, _that’s why_ Ayah pulang duluan,” a lie, his heart breaks a little more at his statements, “Arja mau es krim?”

**_Take her on a drive — tell her you're going to get some ice cream._ **

Ghazul is not the kind of person who's vocal about his feelings. He, as Ganda once described, is like an old scripture written with a language so old no one can understands it. He's not the best person at communicating, even to his own daughter. Sure, of course, he loves her, with all his heart, and he is willing to do anything for her. It's just sometimes he finds it difficult to connect with her, he often doesn't know what to say, so they usually just hang out in silence until Ganda come to the rescue.

But today, there is no Ganda Hamdan coming to the rescue. There's just Ghazul behind the wheel and Arja toying with the seatbelt of her carseat on the back row. He can’t even bring himself to look at her in the eyes; everything is just fine for all she knows, her world is just, in a sense, perfect. _I can’t do this,_ Ghazul is unraveling, breaking apart, _I can’t do this._

**_Turn on the radio, or put on her favourite music, let her sing along, it’ll make you feel better._ **

Ghazul’s left hand turn the car radio on, flipping through statics before eventually landing on a particular station. Elton John’s Tiny Dancer is blasting through the speaker, crawling its way to Ghazul ears. Ghazul’s grip on the steering wheel grows tighter. _Goddammit._

“Lagu kesukaan Papa!” Arja exclaims once she recognizes the distinct melodies, the song was familiar to her, to say the least. 

_Goddammit, Ganda._

Arja is threading her way through the lines of the song, stumbling on a few complicated words and syllables, trying to sing along. 

Flashes of past images starts to play in Ghazul’s head; It was a brisk yet beautiful morning. Ganda was cooking downstairs, Ghazul had just finish drawing a warm bath for Arja, the heavenly smell of Ganda’s breakfast delight mixing with the strawberry bubbles, hanging in the air; addicting. Elton John’s greatest hits vinyl was playing on Ganda’s record player, Ghazul could hear Ganda singing along while flipping some eggs in the kitchen. 

**_Once you got there, let her pick whatever ice cream she want, buy her a triple scoop if she wants to._ **

The ice cream parlor they go to is anything but crowded. Less and less people go to local businesses like this everyday now that big franchise ice cream stores start popping up all over town. It’s sort of sad to think about it, but then again, Ghazul is also grateful of the fact that there isn’t that much people present. Ghazul and Ganda have been going to this parlor even before they have Arja, they usually go here after a long day of work, they both had known their way among every flavours and toppings that the store have to offer. Even some of the workers had known their usual order by heart.

“Arja mau cookie dough,” Arja points at the bucket inside the fridge display, “sama strawberry.”

“Dua aja?”

Arja beams at Ghazul's question, his father doesn’t usually allow her to have more than just two scoops at a time, “boleh tiga?”

Ghazul nodded, forcing a smile.

Arja jumps up in excitement before pressing up her face against the display, eyes trailing the top of the ice cream buckets, trying to decide her final scoop. Her choice then landed on French Vanilla.

Ghazul goes up to the register, spelling out Arja’s order to the cashier, making sure he gets everything right; cookie dough, strawberry, french vanilla with melted chocolate topping. Preparing himself to deal with Arja’s sugar rush as a consequence.

“Itu saja, pak?”

**_Get yourself a scoop or two, darling._ **

His eyes wonders slightly to the available choices, he then adds, “sama butter pecan caramel, satu aja.”

Butter pecan caramel was the ice cream that Ganda and Ghazul's shared after they had dinner on their first date. Ghazul used to hate it, but it's growing on him.

**_Take a seat at the booth by the window. Look at her, Ghani, look at our baby._ **

At this point, he doesn’t think that he will be able to ever take his eyes off her. The light from the storefront window shines before her eyes, those eyes, Ganda said they look just like Ghazul’s. She’s concentrating on her tower of ice cream that’s obviously too big for her, a smile graces her chocolate stained lips. He wants to lock this image in his head, he doesn’t want the world to move on from this very second.

**_Try telling her the story of the hamster. She'll understand. She's smart, like you._ **

“Arja,” Ghazul calls, his voice soft and almost inaudible.

Arja looks up at his father, eyes lighting up, unsuspecting, innocent, "iya, Yah?"

"Arja masih ingat hamster kita dulu? Si siapa itu namanya.."

"Beanie?" Arja completes her father's sentence. 

"Iya, Beanie," Ghazul inches his hand closer to take a hold of Arja's, "kamu ingat _nggak,_ dulu, waktu si Beanie hilang dari kandangnya, kata Papa, Beanie pergi kemana?"

There is a sudden change in Arja's expression as she tries to understand where the conversation is going. "Kata Papa, Beanie pergi ke surga."

**_Tell her that she can skip school the next day, you know, for the funeral if I ever get one._ **

"Arja," Ghazul breath hitches as he tries to gather himself, he closes his eyes and draws another string of trembling breath, "besok Arja nggak sekolah dulu gimana?"

"Kenapa?" Arja subconsciously knits her eyebrows together and tilts her head slightly to the side in confusion, a treat she picked up from Ganda, "besok ada _bake sale_ di sekolah."

"Nanti kita beli kue sendiri. Besok, Arja nemenin Ayah nganterin Papa, ya?"

Arja's features softens with a slight hint of disappointment, "Ayah sama Papa mau pergi lagi?"

"Eh nggak, kok," Ghazul forces a smile, putting up a comforting front for his daughter, "Ayah nggak ke mana-mana kok, Ayah bakal sama Arja terus. Cuma besok kita nganterin Papa pergi dulu."

"Papa mau pergi ke mana lagi?"

**_Tell her that you're gonna get through this together, just_ **

**_like when she lost the hamster. Hug her._ **

"Papa mau pergi ke surga."

"Terus Papa kapan pulang?"

"Arja," Ghazul gets out of his chair, kneeling before Arja, just arranging the words in his head felt like someone set a fire inside of him and burning him alive "Papa sudah nggak bisa pulang lagi, sekarang Papa mau tinggal di surga. Arja jangan sedih, dan jangan Arja marah ke Papa."

"Tapi kenapa? Papa kenapa nggak mau pulang? Papa udah nggak sayang sama Arja lagi?" Arja is now sobbing, she drops her ice cream by the table, her shaky hand clutching on Ghazul's shirt, begging, "Ayah, bilangin Papa Arja nggak akan nakal lagi, Arja bakal selalu nurut. Bilangin, Yah, tolong bilang Papa harus pulang."

Ghazul breaks, he pulls Arja into his arm, whimpering as he feels his warmth consumes her, "Papa sayang kok sama Arja, dan akan selalu sayang sama Arja. Papa juga nggak mau ninggalin kita. Tapi, kadang, nggak semua yang kita mau itu bisa terwujud, sayang. Jadi, Papa titipin Arja sama Ayah."

Ghazul runs his trembling hand along Arja's hair, "Ayah janji akan selalu ada buat Arja. Ayah akan pastikan Arja bahagia. Ayah akan jaga Arja."

"Ayah jaga Arja," Arja repeated his father's words, "kalau nggak ada Papa, terus siapa yang jaga Ayah?"

As if he isn't already falling apart, every piece of him is now disintegrating as Arja's finish her sentence, "Ayah yang seharusnya jaga Papa, sayang. Tapi Ayah gagal. Maafkan ayah ya, nak."

**_Ghani, everything is gonna be okay._ **

* * *

_"Besok kita nganterin Papa pulang ke surga. Arja minta maaf ya ke Papa? Bilang terimakasih udah ada buat Arja dan Ayah. Jangan lupa kiss goodbye buat Papa."_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It took me more than a month to write this because I just can't write a sentence without breaking down and crying. 
> 
> I don't know why I do this to myself, but ngl, it was fun. 
> 
> I didn't think I'd ever be able to finish this but then Darah Daging hits and it gives me the angsty boost that I need. 
> 
> Once again, im so so so sorry.


End file.
